


After Hours

by Crysania



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 16:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17811422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and what's a perpetually single girl to do? Well, work of course. But she's not the only one stuck at the office that night and when Ben Solo suggests working together, maybe just maybe the night will turn out to be a little better than she had planned on. Written for the prompt "stuck at the office."





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to tmwillson3 for her awesome help in coming up with a title!

The clock on her desk reads 5:02. Rey frowns at it, flicking a finger at the thing. _Dead_ , she realizes, when she watches the second hand and it simply ticks back and forth in place. She can’t remember the last time she replaced the batteries. With a sigh, she pulls out her cell phone.

They’re frowned on at Resistance Enterprises, something they’re allowed to pull out during lunch hours or breaks, but certainly not when working.

And she’s still working.

At…

_Fuck_.

7:30pm.

On Valentine’s Day.

It’s not like she has anything else to do. Her best friend Finn had offered to set her up with a mutual friend, but she had no interest in some pity date with random dude number two, who also needed a pity date.  What was the point, anyway? Why spend a day meant for love with someone you don’t even _know_?

So work it is. At least when she immerses herself in her work, her mind doesn’t have a chance to wander. Not to her pathetic love life. Or her pathetic sex life even.

Or to _him_.

_Him_ is, of course, Ben Solo, son of the company’s owners. He’d returned some months ago under mysterious circumstances. They’d been told nothing, but word had come through that Anthony Snoke, founder of The First Order Enterprises, had turned up dead in a most spectacular fashion. Leia had been tight-lipped on it. The only thing anyone knew was that Ben had left the Resistance in an explosive parting that was _still_ talked about behind his back, and had been working for Snoke when it all went down.

And she knew that one of their best operatives, code name Kylo Ren, had been working to take down Snoke. She’d never met the operative. Everything regarding said person was kept hush-hush. Documents shredded and everyone tight-lipped about exactly who he or she was and what he or she _did_.

Soon after word of Snoke’s demise had reached them, Ben reappeared. His parents claimed he’d been left destitute after the First Order was taken down, but Rey had her doubts. He might cling to the shadows in the building, hiding in the office his parents had given to him and working odd hours, but she’s sure he’s not destitute.

Not with a physique like that. That requires dedication and a gym membership.

And those suits he wears? The way he fills them out, she _knows_ they’re tailored to perfectly to him. Broad shoulders, thick dark hair she’s always wanted to get her hands into, maybe slightly over-exaggerated facial features. She likes the intense eyes and long nose. She loves his wide mouth with lips she keeps imagining can do _things_ to her. She even likes the ridiculously over-large ears she sees peeking out from his hair on occasion.

Ok, she _might_ have a slight crush on her boss’s kid. But she’ll keep that to herself thank you very much. No one needs to know, certainly not _Ben._ She would be so fucking embarrassed if he knew. It wasn’t like he paid any attention to _her_ after all. Or anyone, really. She’d see him in fleeting glimpses as he rushed off the elevator and straight into his office, head down, usually staring at his phone.

_He’s very busy_ , Leia would tell her. But she’s wondered about the look on his mother’s face as she watched her only son fleeing to his office, ignoring any overtures she might make to bring him back into the fold.

Rey sighs as she looks back at her computer screen. She’s been monitoring the internet activity of one Gwendolyn Phasma. She used to be with the First Order, but had been unceremoniously dropped from the roster not long before Snoke was taken out. She’d gone underground and Rey was following her to whatever dark underbelly the woman had hied off to.

She’s following pathways on the Dark Web, increasingly disturbed by the things she finds, when there’s a sharp rapping on the door to her office.

She almost falls out of her chair.

And she is, in fact, trying to right herself, one leg halfway off the chair, terribly overbalanced, when the door is thrown open. With a squeak, she falls completely off the chair, reaching uselessly for anything she can to keep herself from tumbling to the floor.

Which is how Ben Solo finds her on the floor, cradling the laptop that she’d managed to pull down with her and cursing up a blue streak.

“Rey?” he asks in that impossibly deep voice. There’s a furrow between his brows and she gives him a sheepish look. “What are you doing down there?”

She says nothing for a moment. She’s not even sure _what_ to say, instead stares up (and up and _up_ ) at him.

“Are you ok?” Now he sounds concerned.

_Say something, Rey_.

“Oh, you know,” she offers up. “Just enjoying the view.” She cringes at the words.

“The view.” His voice is flat, but she can hear just a touch of amusement behind the words.

“Fine,” she mutters. “I fell.”

He shakes his head and steps forward, holding out his hand.

She stares at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Just take it.”

And she does, placing her hand in his and allowing him to draw her to her feet.

There are two things she realizes at that moment. His hand is incredibly warm and big. It wraps around hers like she has tiny hands, which she doesn’t. And he is _huge_. She’s watched him from a distance all this time, enjoying the way his suits fit him, the way he runs those hands through all that dark hair of his, the way he walks with such purpose. A part of her knew he was tall and broad but standing so close to him, she feels downright tiny. And at five foot seven, Rey has never been described as _tiny_.

“Hi,” she says and holy fuck why is her voice so breathless?

The moment stretches on for far longer than she would have liked, but then he finally steps back half a pace and glances away from her. “What are you still doing here?”

“I…uh…” And here comes the embarrassment. “I lost track of time. There’s a lot to do.” She cringes at the words and their meaning. It’s Valentine’s Day and here she is at the office admitting to the boss’s son that she has no life. No date. No party to go to. Nothing. God, she’s _pathetic_.

“On Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s not like…”

“No?” When her eyes meet his again, she’s surprised to see his soften just a bit. “Me neither.”

She scoffs. “You don’t have a hot date?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

She hadn’t thought of that, really. He’s the only other person in the office, so far as she knows. And she can’t quite fathom _how_ he doesn’t have a hot date. Or a girlfriend or a wife or…well, she supposes boyfriend. She hasn’t considered that before.

“Right. Why _are_ you here?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and then finally – “Research.”

“New case?”

“Something like that.”

She nods then. “Same here. There’s just a lot to get done and, well…” She waves a hand around the rest of the dark office.

“Exactly. Peace and quiet, For once.”

“Except for me,” she points out.

“You’re hardly trouble.” And there’s something in the way he says it, in the way his eyes meet hers and trail down for just a moment, almost absent-mindedly, that makes her shiver.

“Well, then,” she says after a moment. “I guess I’ll just get back to it then.”

“Rey, wait.” And _fuck_ but she loves the way he says her name. It’s almost a _purr_ and she just wants this big jungle cat to fuck her over her desk.

_Fuck, where did_ that _come from?_

“I could…” He clears his throat. “I could use some help. With the research? My mom always says you’re good at research.”

She _is_ good at research. She’s one of their best operatives, if she does say so herself. And part of what makes her so good is her thorough research on the people they’re looking to take down. She knows _everything_ about them by the time she’s going undercover. Their likes and dislikes, their extended family, and favorite pizza toppings. She can internet stalk them through the Dark Web with the best of them.

“I am.”

“Good,” he says and there’s a strange, awkward pause there. “Do you…why don’t you come down to my office?”

“Right.” She grabs her laptop and follows him. This really isn’t what she expected at all and she can’t help but watch his ass, watch the way his shoulders fill out that suit jacket.

As soon as she’s in his office and the door shuts behind him, she shivers. He shucks off his suit jacket and loosens his tie. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind?”

He gestures at the tie that still hangs a little loose around his neck. “I know it’s not protocol. But there’s no one here but us.”

No one to hear her scream as he pounds into her. No one to hear his grunts of pleasure. Her cheeks heat a little and she finally manages to stammer out a _no_. And in the spirit of things, she toes off her shoes, setting them neatly near the door.

“Good then.” And he pulls the tie all the way off, undoing a couple buttons of his shirt and _God_ he’s always so buttoned up and Rey finds she wants to just pull him down to her and lick the pulse point in his neck, wants to _mark_ him. “Rey?”

She blinks. _Fuck_. “What?”

She realizes then that he’s standing near a mini-bar. It’s well-stocked with everything from expensive whiskey to wine that she is sure must be at least a hundred a bottle. She subsists on six dollar wine from the shop around the corner from her apartment.

“Do you want any?”

“Yes, please.” Fuck, she sounds like a lush. “I mean, it’s late. And yes I would like some.”

He smiles at her then and she feels her knees grow a little weak. “Relax, Rey. I don’t bite.”

_But could you?_

She takes the wine from him gratefully and he gestures for her to come join him at his desk, pulling up one of the extra chairs and gesturing at it. He sits close. Too close, really, pulling his own chair closer so their legs are almost brushing together. She has to keep herself from pulling away from him just because she’s afraid he’s going to figure out just how hot she is for him.

_Dammit_.

It was easier when he was this unattainable asshole who disappeared in this office. But now she’s _here_ and she can smell whatever cologne he prefers and can see that his eyes are not just brown, but flecked with a bit of green and that his hair really does look very soft.

He watches her for a moment and then pulls out a dossier, similar to the ones she has strewn all about her office.

“This is him?” She flips through the pages. They show a pasty-faced red-haired man with a sour expression. _Armitage Hux_ , apparently. “Wasn’t he…”

“Snoke’s second-hand man?”

“Third, I thought.”

She’s surprised to see the furrow between his brow, the lines at the corner of his mouth deepen. “Something like that.”

“What _did_ happen there, anyway?” The words are out before she can stop them. She’s been curious. Of course she is. He came back in such a hush-hush sort of way. _No one_ talks about it and Leia’s reintroduction of him allowed for no such questions. He was just _back_ and that was that.

It’s no surprise that he just watches her for a moment before returning to the laptop he has in front of him.

“Ok, I get the point.” She shakes her head and continues reading the dossier on this Hux. There are several mentions of Kylo Ren in the dossier, of his working closely with the man to find his secrets, of his using him to get to Snoke. The information is scant, though she does at least find out that the operative was a man. That’s it though. “Do you know anything about him?” she asks, running her finger across the code name.

“Kylo Ren?”

“Yeah. He’s supposed to be…”

“One of our best. Yeah, I know. And to answer your question, no.”

She watches him for a moment with narrowed eyes. He’s lying, she realizes. He’s very _good_ at it, of course, but there’s a little twitch of his left eye that tells her all she needs to know. She wonders if he’s even aware of it. Such a tell, surely it’s a bad thing in an agent. Does his mother know? Maybe that’s why he’s grounded to his office and hasn’t been sent out on an assignment since he returned to them. Maybe it’s more about _that_ than it is about _trust_.

“Ok,” she finally says and lifts her wine glass to her mouth, smirking before taking a sip.

He’s watching her as she does so and when he reaches for his own glass, he fumbles, his fingers not quite closing on the stem of the glass. It tips over, the wine thankfully missing the paperwork spread out in front of him and she’s amused to watch the whole thing just upend and roll off the table onto the ground.

“Fuck,” he mutters as she grabs a few completely ineffective tissues.

“I’ll get some paper towels,” she says as she thrusts the Kleenex box at him. He just stares at and she heaves a rather dramatic sigh. “Will you just _do_ something while I get something better to clean it up? Or is that beneath you?”

“What? No….” He still seems somewhat dumbfounded but finally blinks and grabs the box from her.

“God, fuck, you’re such an idiot,” she can hear him saying as she rushes from the room to find the paper towels in question. She’s _almost_ offended. Or would be if she thought he was talking about _her_. But she’s pretty sure it’s all about _him_.

When she rushes back in, he’s still cursing and doing his best with a bunch of sopping wet tissues to clean up the mess.

“Here I am to save the day!” she says and he turns back to her and looks half annoyed for a moment. She offers up a little shrug and sets to assisting him. It goes much faster with the paper towels. “See? No big deal.”

“This isn’t how I planned for this to go.” The words are so soft she’s not sure they’d been meant for her ears. And Rey could just ignore them, but that would _not_ be Rey.

“You planned for this to go some way?” The words come tumbling out before she can take them back.

“Shit,” is all he says in response.

“Ben?”

He’s watching her and there’s a wary set to his face, lips a little tight, eyes a little more narrow than usual. He runs one big hand through his hair and she can’t help but watch the way the strands just fall back into place. Her hair would be a mess of greasy flatness if she touched it half as much as he did. She usually just tosses it up in a ponytail or the intricate three-bun patterns one of her foster mothers had taught her years ago. It’s just _easier_ that way.

“Nevermind…maybe we can just…”

“Right,” she says in response. But she doesn’t. She steps closer to him instead, and she’s not even sure what makes her do it. She just...gets in his space.

He can’t quite meet her eyes, glancing over her shoulder, an easy feat at his height.

“Rey,” he finally says, still not quite meeting her eyes. “Let’s just…”

“No,” she cuts him off with. “No I don’t want to work. Not right now.”

“Rey,” he repeats, and now he _does_ meet her eyes. His pupils are a little dilated. It’s the first thing she notices. The second is the way he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The third is the way he licks his lips while his eyes trace down to _hers_. And _fuck_ if it’s not the sexiest thing she’s ever seen.

And then she can’t see _anything_ because one of his arms snakes around her waist and hauls her up close to him. He bends down and for a moment, his mouth just _hovers_ over hers, a hair’s breadth away. She can feel his breath fan out over her face. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” Her voice is a breathy thing, and he lets out a soft laugh at it.

“I am,” he says. “If you want me to.”

She rolls her eyes. Apparently her signals are _not_ obvious. Or at least, not obvious to this man. Of course, she had no idea he even saw _her_ that way. Or that he even knew who she was. He came in and out of the office so fast, barely said two words in any of the short meetings they had been at, that she was sure he had no idea who she was. But here he was, pressed up against her, and _fuck it all_ , if he doesn’t kiss her _right now_ Rey is going to do go insane.

“Ben, if you don’t kiss me _right now_ I will not be responsible for what…” She doesn’t get a chance to finish the words because his lips are finally, _finally_ , on hers. It’s not the best kiss of her life. It’s almost brutal, a little desperate. He comes in too fast and she can feel her teeth bite into her upper lip as he presses his lips a little too hard against hers.

But it doesn’t fucking matter. Because her hands are in his hair and it’s even softer than she imaged. When he gentles the kiss a little, softens his lips against hers, she opens her mouth to his.

And…

He doesn’t do anything.

She finally, almost tentatively, touches her tongue to his bottom lip and he _groans_. And then his tongue touches hers. He’s soft. Well, his mouth his. Beneath her wandering hands, she can finally feel the strength in those shoulders, those arms. But his mouth on hers is soft and insistent, and when he slants it slightly and they fit together even better, she just wants to wrap her legs around him and climb him like a fucking _tree_. She’s sure he could hold her up, but his one arm stays wrapped around her waist and the other hangs limply at his side.

She draws back slightly. “You can touch me,” she whispers against his lips and is rewarded with another groan.

But instead of doing that, he steps away. Just slightly. He’s watching her though, those lovely plush lips of his parted, a bit of extra color on his cheeks. And then he turns and sweeps his hand across the desk. Papers go flying, their laptops hits the ground, and she’s pretty sure she hears their empty wine glasses break.

She flinches and takes a step back. “What..” she starts to say.

He does nothing, just stands there and stares at the disaster. “That really seemed much smoother in my mind.”

“What are you _doing_?” She hates how strident her voice sounds but just _what the fuck_.

He finally looks at her. “Movies, you know?” He makes a small huffing noise. “The alpha male sweeps everything to the ground and takes his secretary on his desk.”

“I’m not a secretary.”

Another huff. “I know.” A shake of his head. She watches the way his hair moves as he does so. “This isn’t quite going how I imagined it.”

“Did you?”

He blinks once. “Did I what?”

She has to fight everything in her to not roll her eyes. “Imagine this.”

The color on his cheeks heightens. “I…” he says, but nothing else comes out.

“Well, _I_ imagined it,” she offers up with a smirk. There. She said it. The reality of her crush and lusting laid bare.

And he says _nothing_. He’s not even looking at her. He’s still staring at the desk and the mess that he’s made. She wonders if his laptop is ok. If _hers_ is ok. And just how would they explain that one to his mother. _Oh yeah it’s a crazy coincidence that they both broke at the same time, isn’t it?_

“Wait,” he finally says. He pauses there, running one of those massive hands through his hair before breathing out heavily and turning to look at her. “You imagined…this?”

She winces as she glances at the desk. “Well, not exactly. But you know, something like this?”

“Oh.”

_Fuck, this is a Goddamn mess._ “Right…maybe…”

“What? No.” And then he turns and grabs her about the waist and picks her up like she weighs fucking _nothing_ and deposits her on the desk. “Like this, right?”

“That’s a little closer.” The words are a little breathy.

He steps toward her, and she spreads her legs apart to allow him to come in closer. He kisses her again, softer this time, sweeter. This time her lips part almost immediately and he takes advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth to brush against her own, to dip in and taste her. It’s soft and sensual and the way his hand comes up to cup her chin makes her shiver a little.

When he draws back, he’s breathing heavily.

So is she.

And he leans his forehead against hers. “What did you imagine?” His breath fans out across her face and she tightens her fingers in his hair.

She doesn’t answer. Not right away. Just how much does she give away anyway? That she’s been lusting after him since the moment he set foot in the office, that she’s thought about any number of ways she could have him. Or he could have her. Hidden away in a closet, trapped in an elevator, bent over his desk.

She really likes the last one. But does she dare?

_Fuck_.

“You can tell me,” he says. “I mean…it can’t be worse than what I’ve done.”

She tries to hold back the laughter at that, but it comes out anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He kisses her then, probably just to shut her up.

“Tell me,” he says again as he draws back.

“Over the desk,” she whispers and chases it with a kiss. She feels ridiculous even saying it and she doesn’t know why. It’s not like she’s not a grown adult and grown adults have sexual fantasies. It’s just that she never quite imagined telling the boss’s son that she’d like him to fuck her over his desk. _Oh fuck, Leia, I am so sorry._

He does nothing at first, doesn’t move, but then with an almost nonchalant shrug, he yanks her off the desk. She lets out a little yelp as he pulls her off and turns her so her back is to him. He presses down on her shoulder blades and she goes willingly, hands reaching out to grip the other side of the desk, ass turned up toward him as she bends over it.

“Like this?” he asks and one of those big hands of his comes out to lightly rub her ass.

“Yes. Please…yes…” Just his hand caressing her there, his big warm palm running along her ass, his fingers squeezing just a little. Had it really been so long since she’d had a man touch her?

_Yes_.

Yes it really had been.

“You’re so eager,” he whispers and he doesn’t sound smug about it, not like she would have imagined. He sounds slightly awed. “Can I…” He clears his throat. “Can I do more?”

“Please.”

He groans and his hand traces his way underneath her skirt. It’s not a pencil one, thankfully. She’s always preferred skirts with a little more flow, flirty things that aren’t too short, but are looser and move with her. And so it’s easy for him to move his hand under it, push the skirt up and run his hand over her underwear.

She should be embarrassed by those, actually, now that she thinks about it. They’re plain white cotton, nothing sexy, just the typical comfortable underwear she prefers. But she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed. No, she can’t do that when his finger is tracing along the skin and moving just under the edges of it.

Teasing.

Tantalizing.

“More,” she whispers as he’s _so close_ to where she wants him. “ _Please_.” He voice is a broken thing as he does as she asks, slipping one finger under the edge of her underwear and running along her slit. His indrawn breath and the glide of his finger through the moisture there tells her all she needs to know.

“Fuck.”

She wants to laugh. Because he sounds so ridiculously amazed. And yet pleased at the same time. That weird choked sound like he tried to hold it back but couldn’t.

Instead, she lets out a soft moan and spreads her legs just a little bit further apart. One of his fingers slips inside her and _fuck_ she is so ready. For this, for _him_. A quick fuck across the table. They can worry about the mess later.

She reaches around behind her, but she can’t quite reach _him_ and so her hand flops around uselessly for a moment and _dammit_ , she has never been the most graceful person on earth but she probably looks like a complete idiot flailing around like that.

“What?” he says and there’s a bit of amusement there. “Do you need…”

“You,” she says, throwing out the answer before he can even finish the question. “I need _you_. _Now_.”

“Fuck,” he repeats and this time she does let out a small huff of laughter.

She can hear him shift around behind her and she pushes herself back up and turns toward him. He’s fumbling with his pants and cursing when the zipper gets stuck.

“Fucking pants. Why the fuck do I keep wearing these damned things? Shit. _Fuck_.” He finally manages to get the zipper down and then he’s shucking them, pulling his underwear down and stumbling as he trips over the mess at his feet.

And Rey just _stares_. Because it’s not like she hasn’t seen a naked man before, or, well, a _half_ naked man since he’s still wearing his shirt. But she hasn’t seen one like _this_. She can see the strength there, in every inch of his body. His legs are strong, well-muscled. His cock juts out, thick and longer than she expected.

Not that she had imagined…

Ok, she had _wondered_. Who doesn’t, really? And he sure does not disappoint.

“Are you…” he starts to say and then clears his throat. His hands make a few awkward motions in the air. “You’re joining?”

“Oh fuck.” She laughs again. “Right. Sorry.” She’s just been watching. But she’s a participant in this, and so she turns her back to him again, and leans over the desk, pulling her skirt up. She starts to pull her underwear down but then he’s right there, batting her hand away and yanking them a little too forcefully down her thighs.

He does nothing halfway.

She kicks them off and then he’s right there. His hands are on her hips and he pulls her back just slightly, tilting her hips up a bit. She spreads her legs a little further apart and leans forward and hears him curse.

She’s waiting for _something_.

Waiting for _him_. She needs him inside her now.

But instead she hears him shift and then there’s something _soft_ and _wet_ licking across her clit and she almost jumps from the sensation. But she can’t move. His hands on her hips and his mouth and tongue are stroking across and around her clit and all she can do is hold onto the desk, thrusting back and grinding on that completely perfect mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she mutters. “Holy shit…no one’s…”

He stops for a moment. “No one?”

“Never.”

“Hmmm…” he says against her clit and she jumps from the sensation. “I’ve never done it either.” And fuck it all, how is that even possible because she is completely lost in the way his tongue swirls around her clit and the way he _sucks_ at it with those perfect lips.

And then he inserts a finger into her.

And then two.

And then she’s _gone_. Her orgasm hits her _hard_ and she’d have collapsed into a complete puddle on the ground if he wasn’t there to keep her held up. “That was…”

“Was it?” He sounds so overly eager that she glances back over at him. He stands then and leans down close to her. “Was it really?”

There’s something there in his voice, a small hitch in the words, a bit of surprise. “Yes,” she finally says and tries to study him from the odd bent-over angle she’s stuck in. “You _have_ done this before, right?”

“Once,” he says, the word coming out quickly. He won’t meet her eyes and one of the hands on her hip moves to tracing small patterns at the base of her spine.

She twists a little further. “You’ve only had _one_ girlfriend?” She can’t even really understand that. He’s not conventionally attractive, sure, and if she takes the individual parts of his face and analyzes them, there’s something off about them all. Big ears, big nose, the smattering of moles, and his chin isn’t quite symmetrical. But put together he’s… _striking_. Tall, and broad with hair that’s to die for.

That body alone surely must have drawn in plenty of women. She can’t be the only one to have noticed the way he fills out his suits.

“No.” There’s a small furrow of his brow. “I’ve never had a girlfriend.” She’s about to ask what on earth he means when he goes on. “I mean I did this…you know… _once_.” And now he _does_ meet her eyes and she feels a shiver go through her.

“Oh, fuck,” she mutters. He’s practically a virgin. Ok, he did it _once_. It’s not that she’s had sex a lot or anything. She had one steady boyfriend for a year in college and since then, there were a couple hook-ups. It’s been years. But she at least has _experience_ of some sort. But him…Ben in all his tall, muscular glory… _once_.

It’s beyond all reason.

“Shit, did that scare you off?” He’s still tracing patterns on her spine. She can’t tell if he’s writing letters or drawing something. It doesn’t _feel_ random, but she has no sense of what he’s doing.

_Did it?_ In some ways, it’s almost sweet. It wasn’t like she agreed to work with him in order to fulfill her deepest and darkest fantasies. This is just a perk. She realizes a moment later that he’s waiting for her to respond and the longer she goes without saying anything the more worried he gets. His hand tightens a little on her hip and she finally offers him a soft smile. “Let’s make it twice.”

“ _Fuck_.” Both of his hands tighten on her hips and she lets him draw her back a little toward him. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Pill,” she says in response.

He curses softly. “Are you sure?”

“Still asking for consent? How adorable.” She supposes in this day and age, it’s not a _bad_ thing. And it really is sweet. She didn’t expect that out of him. Of course, she also didn’t expect that someone who looks like Ben Solo and had worked for someone who had styled himself as some sort of second-rate Hugh Hefner had so little experience.

“Rey,” he growls and damn but if she doesn’t like the sound of _that_ coming from him.

“ _Yes_ ,” she says and his hands spasm on her as he suddenly thrusts forward.

And misses, driving his cock just to the right of where he needs to be.

“Ouch,” she mutters.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“Slower,” she murmurs, reaching a hand around to grip his cock lightly, trying to line him up properly.

“Sorry,” he says again, pushing her hand away. He reaches his fingers out and traces around her, thrusting one finger in a couple times. She’s still wet, soaked even, from what he had just done with his mouth, and so his finger slides in easily.

And then he removes it and replaces it with his cock and _this_ time, he’s lined up in the right place and so when he presses forward, _slowly_ , the head of his cock slides into her fairly easily. He groans and stops there.

She takes a few deep breaths in. It’s been a long time. Longer than she’d really like to admit, and he’s fairly large. Certainly larger than the partners she’d had before. Thick and heavy and she _loves_ the feeling of his stretching her as he pushes in a little further.

“I’m not hurting you?”

“Fuck no.”

“That girl, the _once_ ,” he says as he finally bottoms out in her. “It hurt…”

“This doesn’t,” she’s quick to assure him, and she’s pretty sure she has her answer for _why never again_.

“No?”

“No. It feels good.”

He leans down over her and pushes the hair away from her neck, pressing a few messy kisses there.

She takes another breath, pushing back against him slightly and smiles as she’s rewarded with another groan from him. “You can move,” she murmurs.

He does as she asks, drawing back and thrusting back in. “Fuck,” he says and she’s pretty sure that’s become her absolute favorite word in the world. His hands grip her hips as he starts to move in earnest, his thrusts coming faster and faster. “Fuck I don’t think I can…”

She can’t speak, so instead, reaches back and grabs one of his hands, pulling it around her and pressing his finger back to her clit. _Thank God for those long arms of his._ He starts to press into it, rubbing in circles that are just a bit too _much_ considering the orgasm she’d already had. “Too hard,” she manages to pant out. And immediately he softens his touch, slows it a bit.

His thrusting slows too and there’s something utterly lovely about the way he’s moving them together at the same speed. When his finger speeds up, so too do his hips and she finds herself gripping the edges of the desk, thrusting back in time with him.

“So close…” she chokes out.

And then she feels herself clench around him, her back arches, and she lets out a strangled moan. He pounds into her for a few more seconds and then his motion stutters and he pulls her back tight against him as he thrusts one last time and loses himself in her with an incoherent shout.

For a moment, neither of them move, and then she relaxes a bit, lowering her over-heated body to the desk, pressing her cheek against it.

He leans slightly over her, panting hard. She can feel him softening in her and he finally pulls away. She shivers as she feels air between their bodies, as she gets used to not having him in her. It’s amazing just how _fast_ she could get used to the feel of him between her legs.

“Fuck,” he whispers, breath fanning out across the back of her neck. He presses kisses there. One, two.

“Yeah,” she manages to say and she’s surprised at just how hoarse her voice sounds.

He steps back then and she pulls herself up just as he turns her suddenly and wraps her in a huge hug, those amazing arms of his coming around her and pulling her tight against him, sweaty body to sweaty body. She laughs as he presses kisses to the top of her head. She must look a fright, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Rey?” he starts to say, but whatever he intends to say is interrupted by a noise at the door.

They don’t have time to react.

There’s a small click.

And then a bang as the door flies open.

And then a voice. “Ben, are you ok?...”

_Leia_.

His mother.

_His fucking mother_.

And they’re standing there, wrapped up in each other, her skirt rucked up, his pants somewhere across the room.

Rey lets out a squeak and hides herself behind him, once again glad that he’s such a fucking massive tree that she can barely be seen.

Ben, on the other hand, is standing bare-assed for all the world to see. “Mother,” he starts to say. He doesn’t turn his head toward the woman, instead leaning down to bury his face in Rey’s hair. He can’t hide. But she can see the red on his neck and on the tips of his ears.

“Oh,” Leia says. “I had to stop by the office. I heard a noise…I thought…” Rey can hear her tapping her nails against the door. “I thought maybe you were hurt.”

“I’m not,” Ben says.

“Yes,” Leia responds with. “I see that.”

“Mother?”

“Yes Ben?”

“Can you leave…maybe?”

Leia makes a soft huffing noise. “Sure, kid.” Rey can hear her take a few steps away, but then her footsteps falter. “It’s Valentine’s Day, you know.” The last is said almost conversationally. “Why don’t you take Rey out on a date or something? It’s the least you can do for her after, well, _that_.”

And then she’s gone.

Rey’s not even sure how to react for a moment but then she feels the overwhelming need to _laugh_.

Ben pulls back from her and finally meets her eyes. “Easy for you to find this amusing,” he says. “You weren’t the one having a conversation with your mother while your ass is hanging out and you’re holding onto a half-naked woman you just fucked over your own desk.”

Rey laughs harder.

Ben leans down and kisses her, and suddenly she doesn’t quite feel like laughing anymore. She kind of wants him to throw her over that desk again.

“It wasn’t a bad suggestion,” she says when he pulls back.

“What?”

“Taking me out.” His eyebrows fly up at that. “It _is_ Valentine’s Day after all.”

He glances down at the watch he’s still wearing. An expensive one, she notes, Rolex or Brietling or one of those. It probably costs more than a month of her salary. “It’s almost ten,” he points out.

“Something must be open.” _Fuck_. Maybe she should just hedge her bets. This was probably just a convenience fuck. She pushes her skirt down and goes in search of the shoes she’d kicked off somewhere. And just where were those ugly panties he’d yanked off of her…

“Diner?” he blurts out.

She stops looking for her underwear and turns to look at him. “You actually want to?”

His eyes are wide, his mouth half open. “Yes,” he finally says. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” She holds out her hand and he stares at it for a moment before taking it.

“And after this date…”

“Is it a date?” There’s a strange intensity behind the words.

“If you want it to be…”

“Maybe I do.” He tosses the words off like the answer doesn’t really matter, but the way he can’t quite meet her eyes, the way he glances down and away from her, tells her otherwise.

“Then it’s a date,” she says, releasing his hand to wrap her arm through his.

“Good,” he murmurs as he opens the door and escorts her out.

She pauses just outside the door. “Just one thing, Ben?”

“Yes?”

“Just where _are_ my underwear?”

He grins then, lips turning up in an almost feral smile. And then he does finally meet her eyes. “I guess after we eat, you’ll have to come back here to look for them.”

Rey can’t help but smile. “Time number three?”

“Of many, I hope.”

She nods, turning to walk off and tugging him after her. “Indeed.”


End file.
